The Story of Life
by trepidationBLAH
Summary: Because it's Life, and everybody goes through something like this, something that changes them forever. This is the story of a boy and a girl who, together, learn how to deal with Life and everything that comes with it. SasuSaku. AU.
1. Chapter 1

_Sakura wants to forget all about our story-- our messed up, unforgettable story. I decided to write it all down, in case one day we'd want to look back on it and remember all the things that we went through together._

* * *

To any regular tourist's eye, Konohagakure is your average super-rich community. It is full of large company headquarters and hilltop mansions.

The other side of Konoha is considerably less glamorous and much, much more dangerous. The slums are a place for petty criminals, drug addicts, drunks, and hopeless gamblers. Sadly, it is also home to hundreds of orphans. Children with no other place to seek refuge in.

One of these orphans is named Haruno Sakura. Her biological parents abandoned her as an infant. She was adopted by a couple called Haruno, who in turn named her Sakura because of her fresh, spring-colored eyes and beautiful, silky roseate hair.

The Harunos weren't extremely impoverished, but they did have to work exhaustively to scrape together a living out of their tiny, dilapidated clothing shop.

So, Sakura grew up in an environment entirely opposite that of mine. Me, Uchiha Sasuke, the heir of Haru Modeling Company. The future CEO.

I was raised like any other rich heir in the city. I had a private tutor,who charged ridiculous amounts of money for every lesson, and who insisted on me learning politics and diplomacy and all that other crud.

As such a famous heir, I had very little contact with the public world, and so I knew very little about the slums. My parents somehow got it in my head that the slums were full of half humans, mutated and inhumane. They explained to me that living there was worse than hell.

Obviously, before I met Sakura, I assumed the people of the slums to be inferior to me.

In addition to endless classes on business and politics, I was also instructed on how to model. My parents' logic was that is I was going to lead a modeling company, then I should at least know what the work is like. So for part of every week, I was taught the art of modeling. I even took part in a couple of photo shoots, once.

At that time, the makeup directors announced that I needed no makeup at all for the shoot. My pale complexion and dark hair were perfect for the camera. I remember idly thinking whether or not being the son of a modeling company CEO had anything to do with my peculiar genetics.

Once a week, my parents hosted a dinner party so that I could be acquainted with all the other heirs that came from all over to meet me. I hated these events, since most of the female heirs wore revealing clothes and tried to flirt with me during the entire time. All of the males that showed up asked me if I liked being the heir to such a "sissy" company.

I was fortunate that my tutor taught me how to deal with those unpleasant situations. Unluckily for those particular heirs, they will never have a partnership with Haru, the richest company in the world. Their tutors should have taught them better.

This was my life, day after day, week after week, year after year. That is, until I turned 17. From that year on, everything changed for me. That' s because Sakura showed up in my life.

* * *

I remember feeling kind of apprehensive when my extremely busy parents called me in for a "business" meeting. As soon as I walked into the family room, I noticed that something was very wrong. My normally sweet, gentle, placid mom was pacing the entire length of the room furiously. In her hand was a rolled up magazine.

"He's never even seen a paparazzi camera before! He doesn't even know they exist! So how, how did he end up on this magazine?!" My mom was in mid rant when she saw me entering the room. "Here. Let's see what Sasuke thinks about this."

Mom abruptly shoved the magazine into my hands. From behind his desk, Dad shook his head in a _just-deal-with-it_ kind of way.

The magazine sprang open, and I saw the front cover for the first time.

I was, admittedly, just a little bit freaked out by what I saw. I was looking at my own face staring back at me. I recognized this picture. It was from a Monte Blanc photo shoot that I did a few weeks ago.

The headline read:

**_SECLUDED TEEN MODEL OR HEIR TO THE RICHEST COMPANY IN THE WORLD: WHO IS HE REALLY?_**

You've seen him everywhere-- on highway billboards, in magazine ads, and on TV commercials. You've marveled over his looks and his natural modeling talent. And you've wondered endlessly about who he is.

So who is he really?

After some extensive research, our reporters discovered a lot about this teen model. He Uchiha Sasuke, the heir to Haru Modeling Company. This company provides models for all those expensive brands out there-- Gucci, Boss, Prada, American Eagle Outfitters, Dior, Mont Blanc, etc.

One of the questions that came up among our reporters is, why does the heir to the company model for it? Some suggest that he wants to find a hot modeling girlfriend, or that he is just vain and wants to see pictures of himself everywhere. But the real reason?

Haru Company wants to publicize its models a bit more, because in a few weeks, they'll be having modeling trials. They're doing a talent search of the city for more models. For more information on these trials, call 989-INQUIRE, or visit our website at www-konohainquire-com.

* * *

My confusion grew when I read the article. "Extensive research"? Sounded like stalking to me. Was my face really everywhere in the city? But Mom and Dad promised to only use the pictures if they turned out well.

And what about these modeling trials? Nobody told me about that.

Then I noticed my parents discussing something. They seemed to be arguing, so I didn't dare interrupt. Whatever they were talking about sounded important.

Suddenly, Mom looked my way. Her eyes were filled with decision, but her face was carefully void of emotion as she asked, "So, Sasuke? What do you think about that article?"

I shrugged. I didn't want to seem like I cared too much.

"It's pretty meaningless. I think they just want to have a lot of people buy their magazines. The trials that they talked about aren't even real."

Then Dad spoke up in his deep, authoritative voice. "You must understand, Sasuke. That magazine wants to make a lot of money this way. However, this is an extremely fortunate business opportunity for us. We can publicize our trials. It'll even be totally free. The paparazzi will swarm, and we'll discover new models for our company. Hopefully, we'll even gain one or two more large clients."

By then, my mind was already calculating how much money we could potentially lose or gain through these trials.

I was even starting to believe that the magazine article was a good thing. Then Mom added on to Dad's speech in a casual voice.

"Oh, and Sasuke? Your dad and I are hoping to find you a fiancee through these trials."

That killed it.


	2. Chapter 2

Five hundred more people to go, I thought.

Just when I neared the end of the line, more people miraculously popped up behind the ever-growing throng of giggling girls, middle-aged women, and condescending male "models".

I couldn't wait for the interview/fiancée search/moola-making to be over. There were three sections to the trials. At the first station, contestants were lined up for a personal photo shoot (courtesy of genius photographer Uchiha Itachi), and after that they'd walk down the length of the Great Hall/ Main Entrance to our mansion and get interviewed by my parents. Finally, if the person was a young female, they were told to enter a sound-proof, video-surveillance room to talk to me. The last stage was so I could "get to know your fiancée more personally, Sasuke dear".

About 1,000 people signed up for the talent search. More than I could count arrived at the door. Some were the real deal, actual models looking for a better-paying job. Others were there on dares, or things of the sort, and some of the girls were such airheads, I can't even describe the disgusted feeling I got when they talked.

There was one girl; her name was Karin something-or-other. She was number 134 or so in line.

There was no doubt about it. With one glance, I could tell that Karin-san was a veteran to the art of modeling. Her makeup was done flawlessly, so it almost looked like a natural part of her defined face. She had a sort of angular air about her, like her tongue would be sharper than her glare, or something poetic like that.

Karin-san was wearing a sophisticated, tannish beige dress that was draped elegantly over her figure that was none too revealing, yet hugged her curves snugly. Her strikingly auburn hair was pin straight and held back with two black bobby pins in such a way that it offset the dress's shimmery, flowy texture.

I was careful not to spend too long casting an eye over her outfit. She was starting to smirk slyly, noticing my approval of her in the general sense.

Wordlessly, I gestured for her to sit down.

Karin-san sat down with a smile that would have made any ordinary guy's day. But I was no ordinary guy. I'd learned not to become attracted to pretty rich girls, because chances are they'd always have some ulterior motive in mind. Her gorgeous face was lost in my sea of thoughts.

I quickly scanned the clipboard I was holding for the questions I was supposed to ask all the competitors. Oh. There it was.

I looked up from the sheet of paper, my face expressionless.

"So…Karin-san. What made you decide to try out as a model for _Haru_?" That was the first question my parents had determined for me. So it was all standard procedure.

Then Karin-san opened her mouth and began to talk. I've hated her ever since.

"Oh my gosh, Sasuke-kun! Did you see all those pathetic girls waiting in line just so they could _see_ you?! They're so pitiful! _I_ think they should all, like, leave. They don't even deserve to talk to you. Of course, _I_ am perfectly qualified to converse with you. After all, I used to be a model at that useless company called _Yukino_. I swear, they never paid me the amount of money they promised they would. What kind of company is that?"

So this isn't like all the romantic clichés where I absolutely abhor the girl that isn't meant for me because of her voice, or her clinginess, or anything like that. She had a perfectly normal voice, though I am inclined to believe that it was a little too husky and seductive for her to not have had lots of practice manipulating it.

It was just the way she _talked_ that really irked me. Her holier-than-thou attitude only made me want to puke. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I had thought, nobody has the right to talk about someone in that way. Nobody is perfect, so none of us have the right to judge someone like that.

Besides, every hero needs a strong sense of justice.

Not that I was particularly annoyed at the time. It was only in retrospect that this occurred to me.

Karin-san continued her monologue, oblivious to the fact that I was paying no attention whatsoever.

"So one day I was just finishing up with this photo shoot for Nike when I happened to see that poster you guys had up around town, the one announcing the interviews. One of the guys I was working with saw it too, and was totally like, 'Why don't you try out? You complain enough about our company.' That got me thinking, and I realized that maybe I should just quit my job and go work for you guys. After all, I'm sure _Haru_ pays much better than _Yukino_.

"Plus, I immediately saw your sweet smiling face on that poster, and just _knew_ that you would want me here. I heard this rumor that whoever gets picked from this competition has a chance to become your fiancée."

I grunted noncommittally in reply to this tidbit. The servants and workers at _Haru_ gossiped entirely too much.

There were no words I could say to express my feelings for this particular topic, because by then I'd already had to force down several waves of nausea coming from my general stomach area.

Karin-san saw my "sweet smiling face"? Yeah, right. What kind of deluded world did she live in? I _never_ smiled in my photos. Never. Itachi was against it, saying that my slightly scowling, emotionless facade was "better for the ladies".

Like I cared.

I was desperate to end this conversation, and to get Karin-san as far away from me as I could. So I took one more look down onto the clipboard, blanched at the numerous questions still left on the page, and decided to wing it all and make up my own to ask Karin-san. I scribbled it below the rest of the questions, so my parents would have a reference later.

"Karin-san, may I ask, what do you hope to gain by becoming a model for _Haru Company_?"

She tossed her carefully arranged hair and laugh-giggled in that annoying way that girls who are full of themselves do.

"Money, of course. That's what makes the world go round, isn't it? And I definitely want to be a little more famous. It would help to get noticed by some talent scouts, you know, maybe get a small part in a movie, or a commercial," She answered resolutely.

The sick part is that Karin-san said this with absolutely no corruption in her voice at all, like the world was actually like that. It wasn't that she was defiled by society or anything. Karin-san just didn't know what life was like without these things. She was never taught otherwise.

I noted Karin-san's answer down on the clipboard, and nodded.

"Alright, thank you for your cooperation, Karin-san. We'll get back to you about this." I ended my short message with a note of finality, just like my tutor taught me, so the client would be clear that I'd dismissed them.

Karin-san got it, but before she up and left, she shot me a drop-dead gorgeous smile.

"I hope I can see you again, Sasuke-kun," She simpered before walking—strutting away.

I groaned. Nine hundred more to go.


End file.
